


if you want romance and fancy things

by fridaygrimm



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Business AU, Foursome, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Sort Of, Technically This Is A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22448533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridaygrimm/pseuds/fridaygrimm
Summary: Mitch is bored, which sucks. He only came tonight because Tyson promised it was 'barely business, baby, five minutes tops with the big dogs and then I’m all yours'. But here he is two hours later drinking shitty fundraiser champagne at an overpriced table while Tyson smokes on the balcony and nods sagely at whatever the old dudes he’s with are saying.
Relationships: Auston Matthews/Mitch Marner, Auston Matthews/William Nylander, Mitch Marner/William Nylander, Tyson Barrie/Mitch Marner, Tyson Barrie/William Nylander
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	if you want romance and fancy things

**Author's Note:**

> um. so there was a picture and i said mitch looked like poorly dressed arm candy and helen said 'seems like a good day to get back into an old hobby,,,,' and then did the most truly stellar job of cheerleading and hand holding beta'ing and here we are?

Mitch is bored, which sucks. He only came tonight because Tyson promised it was barely business, baby, five minutes tops with the big dogs and then I’m all yours. But here he is two hours later drinking shitty fundraiser champagne at an overpriced table while Tyson smokes on the balcony and nods sagely at whatever the old dudes he’s with are saying. He wishes he was at home with Zeus and Ralph. They’re not much good as guard dogs but they are excellent for snuggling on the couch, which is better. Tyson doesn’t need guard dogs, he has a fucking huge fence to go with the fucking huge pool and. No wait. He’d rather be in the pool, sending Tyson nudes. He has a real thing about Mitch all glistening and shirtless, which is understandable, Mitch has worked hard for his physique. Yeah, that’d make Tyson choke on his cigar.

Mitch smirks into his warm champagne and glances towards the balcony just in time to see a new suited figure heading out there, clapping a hand on Tyson’s shoulder. He has a split second to wonder who the fuck wears a broad brimmed hat at night before hands settle over his eyes.

‘Mitchy,’ breath warm on his ear, just the faintest hint of an accent.

‘Fuck,’ spills out of his mouth, too loud, and the hands are dropping from his face before he’s even raised his own. They meet somewhere in the middle, fingers tangling together as he tugs a warm body around in front of him. ‘Willy.’ He grins. Maybe he doesn’t have to stay bored.

‘Mitchy,’ Willy says again and Mitch grins at him. He skulls the rest of the champagne and lets Willy pull him to his feet and pluck the empty flute out of his hand. ‘Need another drink?’ Mitch glances towards the balcony where Tyson is still embroiled in conversation. Auston’s joined him, the hat Mitch spotted before in his hand. Willy props his chin on Mitch’s shoulder, looking out at their significant others, who are paying them no attention whatsoever.

‘It’s sad,’ Willy agrees, like Mitch said anything. He puts the glass down and takes back the hand Mitch was holding, slides his arms around Mitch’s waist instead, slipping under his jacket to press warm palms against the fine fabric of his shirt.

‘Uhuh,’ Mitch hums absently, sinking back against Willy a little, like maybe Tyson will sense that someone else has their hands in his clothes and miraculously come back inside. He doesn’t, and after a moment Mitch heaves a huge sigh. ‘Yeah, fuck, but no more fucking champagne.’ Willy grins, keeping an arm around his waist as he drags him towards the bar.

They end up on a couch tucked into a little private room around the corner near the coat check.

‘It’s like,’ Mitch says, gesturing expansively with his glass. One of his glasses. Instead of sticking near the bar Willy’s appropriated an entire tray. There’s a tiny graveyard of fallen drinks gathered around the feet of the couch. Reminded of this Mitch twists around to put his mostly empty glass down. He’s sitting half on the couch, half on Willy, legs thrown over his lap. He’s got one arm around Willy’s shoulders and Willy’s got one around his waist that tightens to keep him from falling as he sets the glass aside.

’S’like,’ he says again, righting himself, then squinting and trying to remember his point. ‘It’s like…really fucking annoying.’ Willy laughs, eyes sparkling, falls against the back of the couch.

‘What’s annoying?’ Willy asks, looking up at Mitch like he’s not sure if he’s about to dispense pearls of wisdom or absolute bullshit.

‘I’m hot,’ Mitch says, sitting up a little straighter now that Willy’s basically sprawled on the couch. One of them has to maintain a semblance of decorum. Or something. Willy nods solemnly and Mitch gestures to him. ‘You’re hot.’ A shy little smile appears at the corner of Willy’s mouth and Mitch is so startled he drops the hand he was gesturing with abruptly onto Willy’s head. His hair is soft and kind of fluffy, like it would be going all directions if half of it wasn’t pulled up into a tie. Willy’s hand lands on Mitch’s thigh and Mitch nods like Willy asked him to continue, absently petting his hair. ‘But our fucking boyfriends are.’ He waves vaguely back towards the other room, the balcony, the meeting, whatever bullshit has kept Tyson and Auston so fucking busy.

‘Yeah,’ Willy agrees, sounding half fired up and half breathless. He presses up, his elbows wedged against the back of the couch, and Mitch realises he’s been listing down towards him.

He’s not bored now, Mitch thinks, before they’re kissing and he’s not thinking anything at all except fuck, Willy’s good at this. He tastes like the sweet, sticky wine they’ve been drinking and he slides his hands up Mitch’s sides to pull him properly into his lap. He grips Mitch’s waist through his thin shirt and it suddenly seems wildly unfair that Willy’s still got his suit jacket on.

Mitch pushes himself up to sit, tugging at Willy’s lapel.

‘Off.’ Willy blinks up at him for a second, hazy, before grinning and shoving himself upright. He mumbles something as he wrestles his way out of the blazer with an unnecessary amount of effort but his chest is just not quite touching Mitch’s body on every inhale and Mitch is feeling pretty hazy himself.

‘Was that even fucking English?’ he asks, not waiting for an answer before he leans back in. Willy just hums against his mouth, both hands coming up to cup Mitch’s jaw and wow. Mitch’s breath hitches and he doesn’t quite manage to swallow a needy sound that Willy just echoes back at him. Mitch drops out of the kiss to breathe and one of Willy’s hands slides around to the back of his neck, squeezing.

Willy says something that’s definitely not English this time and Mitch shivers.

‘Fuck, that’s hot,’ he mutters, lips dragging on Willy’s jaw as he speaks. ‘Do it again, how do I make you do it again?’ He presses the question into the soft skin of Willy’s neck and is rewarded with something longer, slurred syllables burrowing under his skin. He shudders all over and bites. Willy yelps, a hand shooting up to grip Mitch’s hair and Mitch hums happily against his skin.

‘Yeah, he likes that,’ a voice says and Mitch whips around so fast he almost falls. Willy’s free hand fists in his shirt and when Mitch can actually see behind him Tyson is halfway into the room like he thought he might catch his falling boyfriend. Auston’s just behind him, leaning in the doorway with a smirk.

Tyson comes the rest of the way to the couch and slides his fingers into Mitch’s hair. Mitch tips his head up to kiss him, still hanging on to Willy.

‘Sorry that took so long,’ Tyson murmurs. Mitch pouts, relinquishing his grip on Willy to grip Tyson’s shirt with one hand.

‘I got bored,’ he tells him.

‘You don’t look bored now.’ Auston comes up, bracketing them. Mitch can see Willy looking up at Auston as he slowly shakes his head.

‘Not bored now,’ he agrees. The couch shifts as Auston sits, sliding one arm across the back behind Willy.

‘Don’t let us distract you.’

Tyson glances at Auston then smiles and tugs gently on Mitch’s hair. Mitch doesn’t have to be told twice, though he does keep his grip on Tyson’s shirt, pulling him to sit opposite Auston as he turns his attention back to the fading mark he left on Willy’s neck.

Willy sinks back on the couch, head pillowed on Auston’s arm, and Mitch goes with him, nosing at his cheek, dropping a kiss on his jaw before lifting his head to kiss Willy again.

Tyson keeps a hand in his hair, thumb stroking just behind his ear, but it still takes him a second to put together that the hand settling on his lower back is Auston’s. Mitch shivers and hears Auston huff a soft laugh.

‘He always like this?’ Auston asks over his head. Mitch drops out of the kiss to answer before Tyson can.

‘Only when he’s been ignored all night.’ He glances at Auston, who looks profoundly amused by the attitude, then briefly speculative. He flicks a glance over Mitch’s shoulder at Tyson then leans in, slow enough for any of them to intervene. No one does and Mitch’s already pretty excited pulse kicks it up another notch in the last few seconds before Auston’s mouth is on his.

Tyson’s hand tightens in his hair and Mitch moans into the kiss. He can feel Auston smirking at that but it’s a fucking lot, okay? Tyson’s tugging on his hair just the way he likes while Auston nips teasingly at his mouth and Willy’s fucking sliding his hands up Mitch’s thighs like he won’t notice he’s heading for his fly. Mitch drops out of the kiss, gasping a little for breath.

‘Willy,’ he sounds fucking strangled. Auston catches his jaw with one hand, holding him still for another kiss as Willy palms him through his slacks. Mitch’s hips jerk forward into the touch and Willy apparently takes mercy, thumbing his fly open and sliding his hand in to curl around Mitch’s dick. He swears into the kiss, which Auston takes as an invitation to bite. Mitch squirms. Willy’s hand goes slack but the drag of Auston’s teeth pulling away makes him shiver.

Auston’s grip on his jaw eases and he glances down to find that Willy’s distracted by Tyson’s hand in his pants. Auston huffs a laugh and brushes Willy’s slack grip aside to take hold of Mitch’s dick himself. Mitch watches the dual flex of Auston’s wrist and Tyson’s forearm, pleasure shuddering up his spine. He feels lit up with it. Willy’s thighs tensing under him as he presses up into Tyson’s touch, Tyson firm on his left as Mitch’s ability to stay upright wanes. Auston pressed close on the right, an arm around his waist, free hand working his dick, driving him relentlessly higher.

‘He’s not gonna last much longer,’ Auston murmurs and Mitch’s gaze flicks back up to Willy’s face. ‘But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’ Mitch can’t quite form the words to answer, holding Willy’s gaze like a pact. Auston chuckles, and Mitch feels the rumble of it where Auston’s chest is pressed close against his side. ‘I didn’t think so.’ Mitch closes his eyes and gives in, turning his head and pressing his face to Auston’s shoulder to muffle a cry as he comes.

He’s distantly aware of Willy shuddering under him, thighs clenching, and Auston’s hand smoothing up his spine to close on the back of his neck. He lifts his head to find that Auston’s looking at him with dark eyes and an expression that twists the little aftershocks of pleasure zinging through his system into something a little longer lasting.

‘Well,’ Tyson sounds breathless and Mitch tears his gaze away from Auston, then from Willy—flushed and tousle-haired—to find Tyson’s pink-cheeked and as dark-eyed as Auston.

‘Home?’ Mitch suggests, sucking his lower lip into his mouth just because he knows Tyson can’t help looking. Tyson’s gaze lingers for a long moment before he glances at Auston.

‘Our place is close,’ he says, offering. Auston shrugs and stands slowly, keeping a steadying hand on the back of Mitch’s neck.

‘Sure.’

They get Mitch and Willy to some semblance of decent and up on their admittedly shaky legs, heading for the door. Tyson moves towards the valet and Auston stops at the coat check so Mitch finds himself leaning on Willy, who’s unabashedly leaning on the wall.

‘Hey,’ he whispers, just enjoying being in Willy’s space, remembering kissing him and knowing he’ll probably get to do it again real soon. 

Willy blinks at him, slow, and smiles.‘Hey,’ he murmurs back. 

Mitch feels his grin stretch even wider.‘Sleepover,’ he whispers.

‘Hell yeah,’ Willy agrees, holding up a hand for a high five. Mitch obliges then hooks their pinkies together, dropping his head on Willy’s shoulder as they wait for their boyfriends to get back.

‘Fuck yeah.’

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at/with me on twitter? @tonellwiththis
> 
> there may be a chapter two? who knows! there wasn't even going to be a chapter one!


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